Shooting Stars
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: "We're a couple of shooting stars that can't be stopped..." Years ago, X Drake made a choice, one that continues to have repercussions for both himself and his old friend, Vice-Admiral Smoker.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

It's a fic without Transformers, Jaegers, or giant robots of any kind, what's wrong with me? XD Apologies to most of my usual watchers, as you probably won't understand what's going on here without multiple trips to the _One Piece _wiki or a massive archive binge...

So after watching the entire anime (haven't read the manga yet), I've become captivated by the idea that Smoker and X Drake possibly knew each other before the events of the show - Drake was a Rear Admiral in the Navy before defecting to become a pirate, and I don't think it's too far-fetched to think that he and Smoker were at least acquainted, if not friends. And though the show doesn't even hint at such a thing - they have no screen time together in over 600 episodes - in my head-canon, I like to think they were friends at some point... and that whatever drove Drake to leave the Navy also created a schism between him and Smoker.

Maybe the manga or the show are going to prove me wrong at some point, but until that happens this is my head-canon, and I'm sticking to it. Because for some reason the added drama of a lost friendship between a dedicated-but-slightly-rebellious Navy officer and an infamous pirate captivates me.

Pretty heavily inspired by the lyrics to "Defying Gravity" from _Wicked, _with a dash of "For Good" for good measure. The quote "we're a couple of shooting stars that can't be stopped" is a paraphrase of a similar quote from the novelization of _Star Wars: A New Hope _by Alan Dean Foster (the cover says George Lucas wrote it, but it was actually ghostwritten by Foster).

Also, Drake's ship hasn't been named in the series yet, so I took the liberty of naming it myself. Since Drake and his pirates have an obvious musketeer theme going in their outfits, I named their ship after _The Count of Monte Cristo, _which was written by the same author who wrote _The Three Musketeers. _Yay, literary references...

Smoker, Drake, and all _One Piece _characters and concepts (c) Eiichiro Oda

* * *

There was nothing quite like looking at the ocean beneath a starlit sky to make one realize just how big the world could be… and how insignificant their place in it was. Tonight especially – the sky was clear and cloudless, offering a magnificent view of the stars, and no islands broke up the flat, glittering expanse of the ocean in every direction. No other ships were visible, no birds sounded cries over the gentle murmur of the sea, no dolphins or whales broke the surface of the water. It was as if all the elements had conspired to give the viewer an impression of magnificent vastness… and almost crushing loneliness.

Captain X Drake preferred it that way. He had come out onto the deck of the _Monte Cristo _to be alone with his thoughts, and he rather savored the intensity of the solitude he found out here.

He stepped out to the railing and rested his hands on it, looking out over the water. They had stopped at a small island two days ago to resupply, restocking their food and water stores and hunting for information on the next step of their journey. Already that island had vanished behind them, and though he knew it would be almost a week before the next island was visible, part of him couldn't resist squinting at the horizon, looking for the telltale smudge that meant land. He saw no trace of land, however, not even with his keen predator's gaze.

With a soft sigh he stepped back from the railing and held his hands behind his back, letting his gaze travel skyward. A milky band of stars seemed to point their way, arcing across the sky and meeting the horizon dead ahead. Even as he watched a slash of light cut across that misty band, as if one of the stars had suddenly fallen from its place and streaking toward the sea below.

A slight smile tugged at his lips as he watched. Sailor superstition held that shooting stars were good luck. And as a boy he'd spent many a night sitting outside, watching for stars and clinging to the appearance of each one as a good omen. Even as a young cadet in the Navy he had snuck out of the barracks from time to time to look for meteors, despite the growled warnings of his bunkmate…

His smile vanished, and he clamped down on that memory, forcing it back. None of that. He had come out here to calm himself and meditate before the next big obstacle on their journey through the Grand Line, not reminisce on old, painful memories. They had a long and dangerous journey ahead of them still, and letting himself linger on old wounds would just get him killed.

Drake let his gaze return to the stars, though he no longer felt quite at ease. Smoker had been on his mind far too much lately. Not simply because the infamous Marine was one of the most accomplished pirate hunters in the Navy, though there was that too – there was always that risk that the Vice-Admiral would someday catch up to them. But of late memories would blindside him at inopportune times, reminding him of portions of his past he would rather not remember…

_Get over it, _he told himself firmly, shaking his head. _It is the past. There is no changing it. The both of you made your decisions, and you must now live with the consequences, whatever they might be._

Still, as he watched a three-quarter moon begin to emerge over the horizon, he couldn't suppress the memory nudging its way to the front of his mind, like a shark rising to the surface to menace him…

"_Get back in here!"_

_Drake made the jump from the barracks window to the tree, landing neatly on a stout limb. He made sure his grip was secure before turning to smirk at his fellow cadet._

"_Don't tell me you're afraid of heights, Smoker."_

_Smoker glowered back, his prematurely silver hair seeming almost to glow in the moonlight. "You're gonna get us both in trouble. You know Captain Vergo punishes both bunkmates if one of them breaks the rules."_

"_Then you might as well come out here," Drake pointed out. "If you're gonna get in trouble anyway, might as well be for something you actually did." He tested the branch above him before pulling himself higher. "Besides, you only get in trouble if you get caught, right?"_

_Smoker growled at that, but in the end he climbed out after him. "If we get caught I'll kick your ass before Vergo kills us."_

"_Deal." Drake grinned down at Smoker and kept climbing._

_About three-fourths of the way up the tree lay their destination – a platform built into the branches of the tree, which Drake had discovered two months ago on a similar foray. Evidently another cadet from a past year had built it for his own midnight escapades, though it had started to fall apart with disuse. Drake had slipped out night after night for a week, smuggling boards and tools up the tree to fix it and cutting away branches that threatened to take it over. And Smoker, despite his complaints, had helped him out._

_Now Drake settled himself on the platform, sitting down and leaning back on his hands, letting his gaze drift skyward. Smoker pulled himself up with a grunt and sat down beside him, mirroring his pose and looking up at the stars._

"_Different constellations here," Smoker noted. "Back home I knew the names of them all. Here it just looks like a jumbled mess."_

_Drake absorbed that little detail before resuming his study of the sky. Smoker wasn't very open with details about his past, so any little snippet he could glean about his friend was valuable. _

"_You'd better learn, then," he pointed out. "They expect you to learn how to navigate without a compass or sextant."_

"_I know that," Smoker grunted, though Drake knew he wasn't as annoyed as he pretended to be. "I'm not stupid. Just takes time is all."_

"_Mm-hmm." He scanned the sky, picking out the star patterns he knew. "Always wondered who named the constellations. Why some of them have such goofy names. And why they decided that bunch of stars over there could be named the Eagle when it looks nothing like a bird of any kind."_

"_Maybe our ancestors had never seen an eagle before."_

_Drake laughed. "Was that a joke? From you?"_

"_Just because I take our studies seriously doesn't mean I don't have a sense of humor – look!"_

"_I see it!" Drake gasped, watching the streak of light that sliced across the Eagle constellation. "Wow… that's the brightest one I've seen!"_

_Smoker nodded, a rare smile on his face. "Especially this time of year. Usually the really heavy meteor showers don't hit until later in the summer."_

"_It's good luck. A sign of good fortune."_

"_Don't tell me you believe that superstitious crap."_

"_Hey, I can believe whatever crap I want, can't I? It can't hurt, can it?" He let his gaze roam over the starscape, admiring the ancient patterns in the night sky. "You know… I'm going to be one of the greatest Marine Admirals someday. Maybe that star was a sign that I'd make it."_

_Smoker snorted. "A rock from space can't tell your future." He reached over and lightly punched Drake's shoulder. "Still… if anyone in our class makes it to Admiral, it'll be you. This class is a bunch of slackers; you're the only one with the discipline to make it very far."_

"_You're no slacker either," Drake pointed out. "You're the hardest-working one in our class. Maybe…" He didn't press the "sign" part again, not wanting to annoy Smoker more than necessary. "Maybe we'll both make it to Admiral someday. Maybe even together."_

"_Maybe." Smoker lay back on the platform, arms folded behind his head. "That'd be nice. And would at least guarantee I've got a fellow officer with a brain in his head."_

_Drake laughed. "We could be famous, you know. Out sailing the seas and bringing justice and peace to the world, fighting pirates and protecting the innocent. True heroes fighting for the greater good."_

"_You make it sound so romantic," Smoker huffed. "But I can see it happening. And every lawbreaker and pirate out there'll learn to fear and tremble at our names."_

"_A couple of shooting stars that can't be stopped." Drake couldn't keep a huge grin off his face. "It'll happen someday, Smoker. You'll see…"_

Drake shook himself free of the memory, passing a gloved hand over his face as if hoping to wipe it away. It had happened… in a way. They had become officers, and each had become infamous and feared in their own fashion. Yet it hadn't worked out at all like he had dreamed.

Movement on the horizon caught his attention, and he leaned slightly over the railing. He focused, his Devil Fruit ability activating just enough to let his eyes shift. Slitted pupils fixed on the form taking shape in the distance… a large ship with a familiar symbol on the mainsail…

"Damn," he muttered, and pulled back from the railing. How had the Navy tracked them all the way out here? Had someone at the last island reported them? He thought the citizens had been sympathetic to pirates, but apparently there was at least one Navy loyalist among them… or at least someone who didn't know how to keep his or her mouth shut.

No matter. The damage had been done. The most they could do now was try to repel this ship or sink it.

"We're under attack!" he shouted, bolting for the cabin where his first mate was sleeping. "Man the cannons! Assume attack stations now!"

* * *

Vice-Admiral Smoker stood at the helm of his ship, arms folded across his chest, two cigars clamped in his teeth as he eyed the pirate ship in their sights. The Jolly Roger was too small to see from this distance, but he didn't need to see it to know this was the _Monte Cristo, _the stolen Marine ship that had been refitted to serve the Drake Pirates. It had been one of the fasted ships in the Navy at the time… but shipmaking techniques had greatly improved on the old designs, and the pirate crew had no hope of outrunning a brand-new Navy craft. This ship was as good as sunk.

Somehow the thought of bringing down the ship of one of the Eleven Supernovas brought no joy to Smoker. He clenched his teeth, nearly biting through his cigars. Damn it. Of all the pirate crews wandering the seas, of the near-dozen Supernovas who were considered the worst threats to the safety of the New World, he had to happen upon THIS one.

"Orders, Admiral?"

Smoker turned slightly to regard Captain Tashigi, his subordinate officer. "Same as always. Open fire the moment we're in range."

Tashigi nodded. "Yes sir. What about the captain?"

"If he doesn't go down with the ship, leave him to me."

"Yes sir." The swordswoman saluted and hurried off to deliver the order, her long officer's coat billowing after her.

Smoker returned his attention to the craft ahead. Captain Drake had gotten sloppy – had he any sense, he would have sent his crew to the island for supplies and stayed on the ship himself, or at least refrained from using his Devil Fruit powers on the island. That way their visit would have gone undetected, and left no chance for someone to alert the authorities that pirates were in these waters.

But no… Drake couldn't resist a chance to show off, could he? He might be one of the more ruthless pirates, but he had one weakness – a huge soft spot for children. And when a handful of boys had recognized him and gathered around him, begging for a chance to see his Zoan form, he apparently couldn't resist. He hadn't stopped to think that the sudden appearance of a dinosaur on the island, however brief, would get tongues wagging.

Then again, it wasn't as if Smoker didn't have a bit of a soft spot for the little ones either. That was the only reason he had gotten the lead on Drake in the first place – he had stopped to talk to a few of the children while his Marines searched the island for clues, and one of them had let slip that "a cool pirate that turns into a T-Rex!" had recently visited their island. Any other Marine might have dismissed the boy with a snide laugh… but Smoker wasn't about to let a lead like this go.

_It's almost like you want to be caught, Drake, _Smoker thought. _I'd say guilt's caught up with you finally, but you never felt guilty about any of this, did you? That's not your way. Even when you turned your back on everything you'd ever stood for, you didn't feel a shred of guilt. Not even when you turned your back on the one who had been your friend for so long…_

He snorted, cigar smoke billowing out of his nostrils. _Stop it, _he told himself firmly. This was no time to get mushy or sentimental. This wasn't his friend, wasn't the Drake he had served alongside in the Navy for years. Rear Admiral Drake was as good as dead; the pirate Drake was a different creature altogether, one who deserved only to be hauled back to headquarters in chains and brought to justice.

Still, he couldn't quiet that small part of him that didn't want to fight… that only pursued the _Monte Cristo _because, more than justice, he wanted to see his old friend one more time.

The memory came unbidden, before Smoker could do anything to suppress it…

_The door to Fleet Admiral Sengoku's office muffled the voices within just enough that Captain Smoker couldn't make out individual words, but the anger in their tones was clear enough. Admiral Sengoku rarely lost his temper like this, and Smoker could only wonder just what Rear Admiral Drake had done to warrant this verbal thrashing. Drake, for his part, wasn't taking it passively, and was choosing to argue with the superior officer instead of just keeping his mouth shut and waiting the storm out._

_Smoker scowled and clenched his fists as he waited outside the door. Damn it, he needed a cigar – just listening to this verbal warfare made his nerves crawl. But Sengoku forbade smoking in his part of headquarters, and there was little Smoker could do but wait until Drake had been dismissed and they could leave._

_Vice-Admiral Aokiji whistled softly. "They're really going at it. I'm surprised Drake hasn't gone dino and eaten him yet."_

"_Shut up," Smoker snapped, glaring. The Vice-Admiral, sprawled lazily in a chair outside Sengoku's office, just laughed softly._

"_I was joking," Aokiji assured him. "Lighten up a little, Smoker. The Fleet Admiral may yell some, but he's not going to demote Drake or anything. He's too valuable."_

"_I just wish Drake would shut his trap before he gets himself into further trouble," Smoker grumbled. "If he just let the Admiral finish talking, this would be over sooner. As it is…"_

_The door swung open, and Drake stormed out, his coat flaring out behind him and his face as red as his hair. _

"_And if this happens again I swear I'll use your Zoan form's hide to upholster a couch!" Admiral Sengoku's voice rang from inside his office. "You'd do well to follow orders without question next time!" And the door slammed behind Drake._

_Aokiji whistled again. "You got him good and angry. That takes talent."_

_Normally Drake would answer the laid-back Vice-Admiral with a sarcastic quip or jab of some kind. But the Rear Admiral only glared at him. "Shut up."_

"_What happened in there?" demanded Smoker. "What did you do? This was supposed to be a routine mission, wasn't it?"_

"_Nothing," Drake growled._

"_You don't generally get hauled before the Fleet Admiral for nothing," Aokiji pointed out. _

"_I don't want to talk about it," Drake snapped. "Not here, anyhow."_

"_Fine then," Smoker huffed. "Have it your way. The Silver Anchor?"_

_Drake gave a jerky nod and strode on down the corridor. Aokiji made to push himself out of the chair and follow, but Smoker gestured for him to stay put. This wasn't any of his business unless the Fleet Admiral pulled him into his office to discuss it, and he certainly didn't need to be present while he talked to his friend._

_Drake was silent the entire time as the two walked out of headquarters and made their way through the streets of Marineford. At first he clenched his jaw angrily, eyes flashing with suppressed rage, but he seemed to calm down the further they walked. Smoker could actually see the tension in his shoulders relax, and that in turn helped him feel a bit less edgy. By the time they made it to the tavern, Drake was almost back to normal, though the remains of a scowl were still visible in the creases of his forehead._

"_I need a freaking drink," Drake said at last, pushing open the door to the Silver Anchor._

"_You're in the right place for that," Smoker noted as he pulled a cigar from his jacket and lit it. "My tab or yours?"_

"_Mine."_

_Smoker led the way to their usual spot, a booth in the back left corner of the building. The Silver Anchor was a popular hangout for Marines, especially officers, and tonight the familiar white uniforms made up about three-quarters of the clientele. The owner/bartender was perfectly happy with this arrangement, as it kept the riffraff out of his bar and any Marines who started a barfight or harassed his wait staff were generally swiftly punished by their superior officers. _

_Drake flopped into his seat with a deep sigh, raising his hand, and a barmaid nodded and hurried off to get their usual drinks._

"_What the hell happened?" Smoker demanded. "I've never heard Admiral Sengoku that angry. Was it about the pirate attack on the Archipelago?"_

"_Attack," Drake repeated bitterly, staring down at the graffiti-covered table. "Yes, it is… if you could even call it an attack."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Smoker took a mug from the barmaid and pushed it over to Drake, then took another for himself. "Spit it out, will you? I might be your subordinate officer, but we've been friends for too long for you to clam up on me."_

_Drake glared into his cup before taking a long draw from it. "You wouldn't understand."_

"_Try me."_

_He drank deeply again before replying. "That pirate attack at Sabaody was no attack. Yes, pirates landed there, but to resupply, and so one of the crew could check on an ailing family member who lived there. Someone recognized the captain from a wanted poster and called headquarters in a panic, screaming that the Archipelago was under attack, and…" He left that hanging as he took another drink._

_Smoker snorted. "Attack or no attack, they were pirates. They're never up to any good."_

_Drake gave a bitter laugh. "They'd say the same about us, you know. And if we'd just left them alone, nothing would have happened. I SHOULD have left them alone and let them go back to their ship. But no, we had orders to capture or exterminate them all, just because the Navy couldn't stand the thought of pirates wandering around so close to headquarters even when they weren't breaking any laws."_

_Smoker's jaw dropped, his cigar landing on the table and scattering ash everywhere. "You were going to disobey a direct order from headquarters? That's a hanging offense! Do you WANT to scuttle your career – hell, your life – just for a pack of criminals?"_

_Drake slammed his mug down and gave Smoker an exasperated glare. "They didn't even start shooting until we opened fire! They were trying to protect themselves! There wouldn't even have been a fight if it wasn't for that damn order! If we'd have just left them alone, all this could have been avoided!"_

_Smoker stared at the Admiral, unwilling to believe what he'd just heard. Was Drake defending the pirates? Had he lost his mind?_

"_Is this what all this is about, then?" he said at last, scooping up his cigar before it could char the table. "You went against a direct order?" The fact that Drake was currently walking around with his head still attached to his shoulders was nothing short of a miracle if that were the case._

"_No," Drake said caustically, "but I should have. I should have thrown down my sword and axe and refused, even if it meant my head. But no… I believed the Fleet Admiral had a reason for what he was doing. I trusted that, whatever the reason behind attacking a crew that was simply minding their own business, it was a reason that upheld _justice." _He scowled at that last word. "I looked one of those pirates in the eye right as he was gunned down. He was just a boy, Smoker… he couldn't have been older than twelve."_

_Smoker hesitated at that. Harm to a child was the one thing he would not stand for, and to hear that a fellow Marine had shot one… well, not even the justification that he'd been a pirate, or the son of a pirate, was acceptable in his eyes._

"_I went to Admiral Sengoku in the hopes that he could give a compelling reason for our orders. He said…" The hand on his mug clenched, starting to melt into a scaled, clawed hand as Drake's rage took over. "He said the fact that they were _pirates _was justification enough."_

"_Don't change here," Smoker ordered. "Remember the last time. And just what in hell were you expecting, Drake? The Navy can't allow pirates to roam free practically on our doorstep! The order was too harsh, yes, but it was for a good reason!"_

_Drake narrowed his eyes, the normally blue irises going yellow and slitted. "There is NO good reason for the slaughter of innocents!"_

"_Pirates are hardly innocent-"_

"_I will NOT authorize or condone the shooting of children!" Drake thundered, shooting to his feet. "Or of someone who isn't even breaking the law! I didn't join the Navy to become a murderer!"_

_A woman at the next table screamed as a thick reptilian tail emerged from beneath Drake's coat, knocking several chairs over. Smoker swore and got to his feet, restraining himself from reaching for his jitte. Usually Drake had enough of a handle on his Devil Fruit powers to avoid an involuntary transformation, but if he was well and truly angry – or very drunk – he could sometimes shift without meaning to. As both he and the proprietor and staff of the Silver Anchor had learned the hard way…_

"_Stop!" bellowed the bartender, waving his arms. "Don't do that in here, not again! We just fixed this place up from the last time!"_

_Drake hesitated, then sat back down, his claws and tail slowly vanishing. His eyes shifted back to their normal blue, though they looked exhausted, even defeated. Smoker let out a sigh of relief and sat back down._

"_Drake… you knew this would always be part of being a Marine. It wasn't all adventure and glory – it would be a nasty, messy business, hunting down pirates and other criminal scum. Don't tell me you made it all the way up to Admiral without knowing this."_

_Drake stared into his glass, silent for a long moment. All the rage of before seemed to have drained out of him; now he just looked tired and resigned. With another sigh he finished his glass, then pushed it away._

"_I know it wouldn't always be pleasant," he replied at last. "I just never thought that the day would come when I became as cruel and ruthless as the very criminals we fought…"_

Smoker growled and forced the memory back. He should have realized that night that Drake's decision had already been made. He had made his choice, throwing everything he had ever striven for away to become the very thing he had fought for so many years. And now, that choice would lead to its inevitable conclusion.

A low boom echoed through the night, followed by a faint splash as a shot went wide, striking the water off to their starboard side. So they'd been spotted, and the Drake pirates were fighting back. Not that they were doing anything but delaying their doom.

"Fire at will!" Smoker shouted. "Take them down!"

* * *

The railing to Drake's left exploded into jagged splinters, and the cannonball from the Navy ship continued on to punch a hole in the main cabin. Drake didn't even flinch, just stood his ground as the _Monte Cristo _exchanged fire with the enemy vessel. Any crew members who weren't manning the cannons were swarming the deck, guns and swords raised, ready to take on any Marines who were foolish enough to try to board their ship. They had survived over a dozen attacks of this nature, and were confident they could take on yet another.

Drake wanted to warn his crew not to get too cocky, that any number of factors could tip the scales in the Marines' favor. But he kept that to himself for now. A battle wasn't exactly the best place to start putting doubt into your crew members' minds.

The Navy ship pulled up alongside the _Monte Cristo, _grappling hooks flying out to latch onto their ship and pull it close. Drake barked an order, and his pirates rushed forward to prevent as many Marines from boarding as they could. Gunfire and the clash of swords filled the air, interspersed with shouts of anger and screams of pain.

Drake himself wasn't content to stand back and let his men do the fighting – he was right in the thick of things, axe and saber at the ready. With one arm he blocked the sword that flashed out to gut him, swinging the other to bury a blade of the axe into the Marine who had come from behind in an effort to flank him. All conscious thought faded away as he moved, every jab and thrust second nature to him by now, his body almost seeming to move of its own accord to follow the deadly choreography of the battle dance.

He had just struck aside the weapon of a Marine who had tried to take a shot at him when he spotted thick smoke clouding part of the deck. For a moment he thought someone had set the _Monte Cristo _on fire… but that thought was dashed as a familiar form stepped out of the haze.

_Smoker. _Dread filled his gut. His old comrade had finally caught up to him. He noted that the man had gone up in rank since he'd seen him last – from a mere Captain to Vice-Admiral – and he wondered if he should be happy for him or not…

He shook his head and crouched, ready to charge. No time for sentimentalities. Smoker wasn't going to hold back in this fight… and neither would he.

A young woman in an officer's coat moved to block his path, sword raised and an angry snarl on her face, but a barked order from Smoker made her reluctantly move aside.

"Drake is mine, Captain," he ordered. "Lead the men. Capture this ship at all costs." He narrowed his eyes, regarding Drake with a calculating look.

"Yes sir," she replied, and darted off.

Drake didn't hesitate – he activated his Devil Fruit power in full force. Marine and pirate alike scattered in terror as he shot upward, towering over Smoker, legs lengthening and thickening with extra bone and muscle. His jaws jutted out in a powerful, fanged muzzle, and wicked black claws glittered on his hands and feet. A lashing tail swept behind him, bowling over Smoker's subordinate officer and a handful of other Marines who hadn't gotten out of the way in time. He raised his head and delivered a full-throated roar that ripped through the night, seeming to make the very ocean tremble with the force of it.

Smoker held his ground, glaring up at Drake as if it were perfectly normal to see a pirate change into a carnivorous dinosaur in the middle of a pitched battle. "Not going to surrender, I take it."

"You should know by now that I'm not the type to surrender," Drake rumbled, and lunged. His teeth snapped shut on empty air as Smoker flung himself aside, rolling to his feet and drawing his jitte. The baton-like weapon looked laughably useless against Drake's Zoan form, but Drake wasn't going to take chances – even weapons that looked harmless at first glance could be deadly.

"Then you've decided your fate," Smoker snarled, and his coat billowed outward as his body from the waist down shifted, changing to a pillar of smoke. Drake lunged again, hoping to finish him before he could change his entire body, only for his jaws to pass right through the Vice-Admiral. In retaliation Smoker rammed the jitte into his muzzle, making him stagger as the seastone imbued in the tip took effect.

_Blast him! _he thought angrily as he struggled to regain his balance. Smoker was in full logia form now, and was going to be virtually impossible to take down with normal attacks. He hadn't had to use haki in some time, but now seemed as good a time as any to get back into practice.

Smoker went airborne, lashing out at Drake's face with the jitte again. Drake reeled back, then snapped at him, focusing all his inner energy on his jaws. His teeth closed on cloth, and with a wrench of his neck he whipped Smoker out of the air and onto the deck of the ship. The Vice-Admiral lay there a moment, stunned and dazed… an easy target.

_Get it over with, _he told himself. _He wouldn't hesitate to do away with you if the situation was reversed. Destroy him and get your crew to safety before the Navy retaliates. _He raised his foot, ready to bring it crashing down on the prone form beneath him…

Smoker raised his head, locking eyes with Drake. And in that moment he hesitated. Had it been any other Admiral who lay helpless before him, he would have killed him without a second thought. But this was Smoker, his old friend from his cadet days, the one who he had shared hopes and dreams and fears with…

Smoker jammed his jitte into the bottom of Drake's foot, and a wave of weakness streaked through his entire body. Already off-balance, he toppled with a rasping shriek, the boards of the deck rattling and almost cracking from the force of his impact. He struggled to right himself, cursing his stupidity the whole time. Blast it all, his stupid moment of sentimentality was going to be the death of him! He wouldn't waste a second opportunity... if it ever came.

The tip of Smoker's weapon pressed right between his eyes, paralyzing him completely. He couldn't so much as twitch, let alone rise to his feet. He glared defiantly at the Vice-Admiral, practically daring him to act… to kill him, or order his arrest. Smoker glared back, silent, unmoving, keeping the jitte in place to keep him subdued.

"Captain X Drake," he said at last, "consider yourself a prisoner of the World Navy."

"All… business… I see," grunted Drake. "You… haven't… changed a bit."

"And you've changed far too much," Smoker growled. His voice was bristling with anger… but to Drake's shock, there was sadness in his eyes, an expression he recognized from the meeting he had thought to be their final one…

_Drake paused in his tracks, one foot still on the path and the other resting on the dock leading to the _Monte Cristo, _the ship he had chosen to commandeer for his quest. He had told no one among his comrades where he was going, save the handful of fellow Marines who had opted to defect along with him. He hadn't even told Smoker – the Captain might be one of his closest friends, but he was too bound to his duty, and would have betrayed them all to Sengoku had he known._

_And yet someone in the white coat of a naval officer waited for him on the dock. So someone had gotten second thoughts, and called in an officer to arrest him for his attempted treason. Could things never be simple for once?_

_Steeling himself, he shouldered his pack and made his way down the dock to confront the officer. The smell of cigar smoke soon gave away his identity, and his spirits rose just a little. Perhaps he could still reason with this one…_

"_Just where in hell do you think you're going?"_

_Or perhaps not. "Step out of the way, Smoker."_

"_Not until I get answers," Smoker snarled. "Where are you going? I saw you packing your things today, I'm not blind. Don't tell me you've resigned from your post."_

_Drake managed a bit of a smile. "Blunt as always, Smoker." He moved to step around him. "Don't try to stop me. I have to do this."_

"_This isn't still about the Sabaody incident, is it?" Smoker pressed. "I thought that had blown over. Hell, I don't think Sengoku even remembers it anymore. There's no reason for you to resign."_

"_Yes… yes, there is." He looked Smoker straight in the eye. "And in a way, it is about that incident. Because that drove home a lesson that has been a long time coming."_

"_What lesson?"_

"_That the price of Absolute Justice is too high."_

_Smoker gaped at him. Such words coming from an Admiral in the Navy were practically blasphemy. But Drake wasn't done._

"_I cannot, in good conscience, continue to serve a cause that deems the deaths of civilians – especially children – acceptable to further its own ends. The Sabaody incident wasn't isolated, merely the latest in a string of incidents that have long disturbed me. I always dreamed of serving as a Marine, upholding justice… I just didn't realize that in order to do so I would have to become a monster."_

_Smoker shook his head. "I don't agree with everything the Navy does… but the good the Marines do far outweighs the bad. Don't dismiss the entire organization as corrupt just because of a few incidents."_

"_A few? It has been far more than a few, Smoker. I've seen too much of it firsthand, and found records of far more. Did you know about the massacre of innocents in the wake of Gold Roger's execution? When they were so bent on eliminating his heir that they would arrest and kill any pregnant woman who MIGHT have been in Roger's company?" From the way Smoker's face went a shade paler, he was going to guess that this was news to him. "I won't stand by and watch as atrocities are committed in the name of 'justice.' Not anymore."_

_Smoker stared at him for a long moment, taking in a deep drag from his cigars and blowing it out slowly. Drake expected to see anger in his eyes… but instead there was a deep sadness._

"_What are you planning on doing?" he finally asked. "Where will you go?"_

_Drake already knew the answer to that. He had pilfered several offices in the Marine Headquarters for as much military intelligence as he could get his hands on, and put together the beginnings of a crew already. He was hardly the only Marine disillusioned with the cause of Absolute Justice, after all, and he had found several who were all too willing to shed their uniforms and join him on his new quest… the quest for the One Piece._

_He had gotten his life's dream in becoming a Marine… and had been bitterly disappointed. Perhaps, by walking the opposite path and taking on the mantle of a pirate, he could find some measure of happiness, and a new dream._

_He said none of this to Smoker, however. "Perhaps home to North Blue. Perhaps a bit of traveling. Perhaps I'll even venture to the New World and see what awaits me there."_

_Smoker's eyes flashed, and Drake realized he'd said too much. His friend wasn't stupid, and had already connected the dots._

"_You're going to become a pirate."_

_Drake said nothing._

"_Damn you," Smoker growled. "You'll throw it all away to go chase some idiot story about treasure to the ends of the world? You'll get yourself killed!"_

_Drake shrugged. "I like to think I can take care of myself. But if something does happen… better to die honestly than live supporting a lie." A wild thought occurred to him, and he voiced it before he could change his mind. "Smoker… come with me."_

_Smoker had opened his mouth, possibly to try to dissuade him, but shut it again and gave him a puzzled look. Drake wasn't done, however – the more he thought on this possibility, the more it excited him._

"_Think about it," Drake continued. "The two of us, captains on a ship of our own? Braving new horizons and facing whatever the tides and winds throw at us? We could be unstoppable together… a pair of shooting stars no one can stop."_

_Smoker raised an eyebrow. "I've heard that before."_

"_Yes… but this time it will be true. We will be living for ourselves, and not for someone else's ideals."_

_Smoker was silent for a long moment, and for a few seconds Drake thought that perhaps he might take him up on his offer. But instead he just shook his head and stepped to the side. _

"_Go," he ordered. "I'll cover for you as long as I can, and if they ask me where you went I'll say I don't know. But you'd better hope we never see each other again… because if we do, it'll be as enemies."_

_His heart plummeted at that, but he only gave a sharp nod in response. He stepped up to the side of the _Monte Cristo _and grabbed the ladder, hauling himself aboard. The rest of the crew should already be aboard, and with his arrival they would quietly cast off and take advantage of the cover of night to get as far away from Marineford as they could. After that… well, he would decide when that time came. There were infinite possibilities, but right now he just wanted to get out into the sea air and clear his head._

"_And Drake?"_

_He turned to face the Captain._

"_Good luck." Smoker raised his hand in a salute. "You're going to need it."_

_Drake nodded in return. "Good luck to you… Captain Smoker." And he pulled himself aboard the ship and gave the signal to move out._

_Even as the _Monte Cristo _sailed out of the harbor and into open water, Drake kept his gaze on the dock, until the white-coated form of Smoker finally stepped back and headed back for the Marine headquarters…_

"I warned you," Smoker said darkly. "The next time we met, it would be as enemies. You made your choice… and it was the wrong one."

"Not… the wrong one," Drake snarled. "Just unlucky." He narrowed his eyes. "If… you're going to kill me… get it over with…"

Smoker didn't move, still staring fixedly into Drake's eyes, seastone weapon still pinning him to the spot. All around them pitched battle continued to rage, pirates and Marines locked in mortal combat, the female officer and Drake's first mate both shouting orders over the bedlam. But to the Vice-Admiral and pirate captain, it was as if time had stood still. Drake snarled quietly, struggling to fight back the seastone-induced paralysis. What was he waiting for?

Then something in Smoker's stance relaxed, and the jitte pulled away from Drake's hide. Just a little… just enough.

Strength surged back through Drake's limbs as the debilitating effects of the seastone fell away, and he twisted a leg up and kicked Smoker across the deck. The Vice-Admiral hit the railing hard, grunting as the wind was knocked out of him, and his jitte flew overboard and into the water.

Drake, meanwhile, scrambled to his feet, his claws ripping gouges out of the wooden deck. As the shadow of his bulk fell over the attacking Marines they paused in their fighting to gape up at him. Several panicked right away and fled toward the Navy ship, while others opened fire. A line of bullet wounds opened up down his side, but in his saurian form they were little more than pinpricks… and only served to enrage him all the more.

He lunged, snapping up an unlucky Marine in his jaws, and flung the man overboard. Two more, either incredibly brave or very stupid, charged with sabers drawn, but were almost immediately swatted aside with a kick of a clawed foot. Drake waded into the thick of the battle, biting and clawing, sending the Marines scattering in all directions. His own men backpedaled quickly, sheathing their own weapons, recognizing that their captain had the situation under control and there was no point endangering themselves by getting in his way.

Drake might have continued until every last Marine was either dead or cast overboard if a sudden shout hadn't cut into his haze of rage: "Fall back! Back to the ship!"

"But Admiral…" began the Navy captain, turning to stare at Smoker in bewilderment.

"They aren't worth it," Smoker growled, his voice rougher than normal with pain as he limped toward his fellow officer. "Get this ship to port for repairs and to see to the wounded. One lousy pirate crew isn't worth all our lives."

The captain looked upset by the order, but the rest of Smoker's men were all too happy to oblige. They retreated back onto their own ship, spurred on their way by some parting shots from the Drake pirates and a few snaps at their heels from Drake himself. One of the burlier Marines helped Smoker off the ship, despite the Vice-Admiral's cursing and insistence that he could walk just fine, dammit. From the way he clutched at his side, Drake guessed that he'd probably broken some ribs.

The two ships drifted apart, and the Navy ship slowly turned to flee, driven on by the thunder of cannons from the _Monte Cristo. _A ragged cheer went up from the Drake pirates, and even Drake himself let out a bellow of triumph. They had survived to sail and fight another day… which was far more than most pirate crews could say after tangling with one of the most infamous officers in the Navy.

"Enough!" Drake said at last, letting himself shift back to human form. "That's enough for now. See to the wounded, and get started on repairs to the ship!"

The crew scurried to obey. Drake pressed a hand to his side, then frowned as it came away bloodied. Wounds suffered in his Zoan form carried over to his human form, and in the heat of the battle he'd forgotten about his injuries until now.

He glanced back up at the Navy ship… and saw he was being watched. Smoker still stood on the deck, gaze fixed on him even as the captain kept trying to drag him below deck for medical treatment. He was too far away for any attempt at speech to carry, but his expression was clear enough to Drake:

_A life for a life. We're even now. The next time you won't be so lucky._

Drake nodded once, to show he understood. He had held Smoker's life in his hands – or rather, claws – and he had held back. Smoker, in turn, had shown him a measure of mercy, if only because Smoker hated being in anyone's debt for any reason. Honor had prevailed over Absolute Justice… for now.

"Captain, let someone see to that wound," his first mate advised. "You'll do nobody any good bleeding out on us."

Drake nodded, and let the man lead him away. Smoker, in turn, vanished from the deck of his own ship. Idly Drake wondered if their paths would ever cross again… but somehow he doubted it. They had chosen vastly different paths and ways of life, and there could be no turning back at this point.

Still, wherever Smoker's path took him… Drake couldn't help but wish him well on the journey. They might be enemies now, but he found he couldn't hate his old friend. They had shared too much in the past, and he wasn't about to forget that, even now.

_We're a couple of shooting stars that can't be stopped, _he thought wistfully as he stepped into the main cabin and headed for the infirmary. _And wherever our paths take us… may we each find what we're looking for. Whatever it may be._


End file.
